


The Flesh and the Words

by gypsyweaver



Series: A Tale of Crowns and Coins [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Beelzebub Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Gabriel Has a Penis (Good Omens), Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Oral Sex, Other, POV Gabriel (Good Omens), Shameless Smut, Smut, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsyweaver/pseuds/gypsyweaver
Summary: Gabriel and Beelzebub find comfort in each other, and continue what they started on a nameless island in the Pacific.This is where I put the smut.
Relationships: Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: A Tale of Crowns and Coins [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684990
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	The Flesh and the Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarryEyedForAnArchangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryEyedForAnArchangel/gifts), [irishamrock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishamrock/gifts).



> CW: Brief (non-graphic) mention of previous rape/non-con, lactation

Beelzebub regarded him, head cocked slightly on the pillow, their wide eyes now free of any fear. Gabriel had seen that look on their face many times over the years. At every banal and useless meeting, at every contract negotiation. It was the curious look they’d worn on their face when they were preparing Michael for her burial.

He knew what that look meant. Beelzebub was sizing him up. Deciding what they wanted from him, and how to obtain it.

 _I would do anything for you_ , he thought.

He’d never been the type to hide his intentions, so he told them, “Anything you want, Beelzebub. I just want it to be good for you.”

They smiled, a warm and sated smile. “Then make it good for me.”

Their hands reached for his face and brought him to their lips. Beelzebub kissed him, opening his mouth with theirs and slipping their tongue inside. They lingered, hands winding through his hair, pulling him as close as skin and bones allowed.

They broke the kiss, and his chest was damp where he’d pressed himself against them. They looked at the milk that had leaked on Gabriel’s skin, and sighed.

“Yes, they do that when they’re full and someone makes me happy. It...it wazzn’t always painful,” they said, their voice so close to breaking that it made Gabriel ache. “Sometimezz...when they felt charitable...sometimes, it felt good.”

“They? I thought it was just Sandalphon...”

“Nuriel...she...she was allowed to...” Beelzebub looked away, their face flushed. Gabriel could see how tightly they gripped the duvet, digging fingernails deep into the velvet. “She...participated.”

Gabriel reached for them, stroking their head. It seemed the safest place to touch. He ran his fingers across their forehead, into their hair, smoothing it back. Scratching their scalp and watching their fingers uncurl from the duvet. Watching them relax.

“It could have been nice...” they continued, their voice soft. Their gaze was unfocused. “I think...it still could be...with you.”

Gabriel leaned down and kissed them on the forehead. He met their eyes. He wanted Beelzebub present, completely, and not lost in the past.

“You said to make it good for you. Can you trust me to do that?” he asked them, running his hand down their cheek. Across their shoulder and down their side. He held them, dropped his lips to theirs and kissed them. A long, penetrating kiss that opened their mouth like a rosebud blooming. He felt them move to meet him, tongue finding his in the hot dark of their mouths. They were still cooler than him, but warming.

They broke the kiss but did not pull away. Their hands settled on his shoulders, and they smiled. A beatific smile. The part of them that was still Remiel lived in that smile.

“I trust you,” they said.

Those three words wore a fringe of wonder as they left Beelzebub’s lips. Gabriel did not think they’d ever used that phrase before. He did not think they’d ever trusted anyone. Certainly not with something as precious as their flesh.

Their eyes were soft in the light, pupils wide with their anticipation. Their mouth opened slightly, and they were panting. Their skin was warm, blood now flushing their face and neck.

Gabriel crept one hand through the black sweep of their hair. He cupped their neck, tilting their head back to give him access to their naked throat. He laid his lips there, just below their jaw, on the pulse point. They sighed, and the hands on his shoulders slipped away, over their head, resting on the pillow above them. It was a surrender. It was trust.

He kissed the hollow of their throat, feeling the rush of blood under their skin, heartbeat hammering against his lips. Gabriel darted his tongue out, teasing them there.

He was rewarded with a groan that he could feel from his chest down to his cock. His mouth began its southward trek, marking their skin with kisses and touches of tongue. Pausing to worry at flesh with teeth when he found a particularly delectable spot. He lingered at the rise of their breast, covering the skin there with kisses and nips. He traced his way around their areola, running through the thin trail of milk that leaked from the nipple.

Sweet, so very sweet. His tongue found the source, and he teased the beads of fluid from their flesh as they appeared. Slowly, he drew them into his mouth. Beelzebub cried out as he began to suck.

It was not a cry of pain. They did not stop him. They did not pull away.

The milk splashed over his tongue, sweet and thick. He drank of them, taking every drop that they would give. If this never happened again, he wanted to remember their smell and their taste. How they shivered beneath him when he paused to flick their nipple or to nibble at their flesh. How freely their milk flowed into him. How warm it was, and how delicious it felt in his mouth, down his throat, and filling his belly.

His free hand slipped from their side to the soft thatch of hair between their legs. He pet them there, enjoying the feel of silky fur beneath the pads of his fingers. He waited for some sign that he was allowed to go further. Beelzebub obliged him, unclenching their thighs, granting him the barest amount of space. Gabriel sank a single finger into the very warm and very wet crevice between their thighs. Then another. Their lips parted around him, and he stroked them. All the way down, and then back up, to the kernel of flesh that marked the very center of Beelzebub’s pleasure.

They sighed as he began to work them there, rolling their needy flesh between his fingers, stroking the swelling lips beneath. They grew wetter and wetter. He coated his fingers in it, daring to trace around the inviting little mouth that he’d never entered. Not yet.

Beelzebub moved, bending their legs and parting them. One draped over Gabriel’s curled knees, and the other sprawled across the bed. They allowed him more space, opened themself to him, and he rewarded their trust by slipping a curious finger inside. He started the slow, sweet process of stretching them. Of preparing Beelzebub for him.

They groaned when he slipped the second finger inside them, palm flat against their crotch. Gabriel explored the slick folds inside them, feeling them press against his fingers as they would soon press against his cock.

They relaxed around his fingers, so he slid a third inside them. His thumb found their clit and began to stroke it. Soft little circles, as if he was trying to work the tension out of a tight muscle. He felt them squeeze down on his fingers as he worked their flesh to light and joy.

Beelzebub cried out for him as the climax seized them. Curiously, the milk flowed more freely as they came. Gabriel drank from them, and could not tell which was sweeter. The milk, or his demon calling his name as their pleasure broke over them.

He kept his fingers inside them, stroking them. There was not at much milk as there had been. His thumb slowed on their clit, but did not stop. He teased them, but gently.

The first time that they’d been together, Beelzebub had allowed him to rest in between. Had kissed him and stroked him, had held him close and told him that he was treasured.

The demon of gluttony was better able to pace themself than Gabriel was. He wanted more, and they were not denying him. He slipped his fingers out of them and released their breast, touching the nipple with his tongue as he left. He laid a trail of kisses down their soft belly as he eased himself between their legs.

He kissed their navel, and then below, laying kisses on the hair that grew like meadowgrass, that felt so fine beneath his fingers and lips.

“More?” he asked, lowering his lips to the place where their legs parted, just above their Effort.

“Yes,” they sighed. “Yes, more.”

He shouldered their knees, and lowered his lips to the flesh that shone like a pearl in the golden lamplight. Gabriel reached out with his tongue, drawing them into his mouth. Beelzebub tasted like salt and musk and the Earth, dew-kissed, at dawn. There was sweetness underneath. They tasted like autumn leaves and spring thaw, all at once.

He wanted more.

They shuddered and cried out as he blessed their Effort with teeth and tongue, as he drug his lips over the sensitive flesh and dipped his fingers inside. Stretching them, making them ready. Bringing them to the trembling precipice and nudging them over. Again and again.

When Beelzebub’s body had gone limp, when the flesh that surrounded his fingers was slick, dripping, and loose--when he was certain that they were ready--he knelt up as far as he dared. Their knees remained on his shoulders, ankles crossed behind him. Gabriel pulled Beelzebub forward, and leaned over them, carefully molding their body to the position that he needed them in. With one hand, he guided himself to them, stroking the threshold that he dearly wished to cross. Feeling the lips below as he dampened his cock with their juices. He wanted them, and he wanted this.

But never, never without permission.

“Beelzebub,” he said, laying a gentle kiss on their lips. “Tell me what you want.”

Open-mouthed and flushed, glassy-eyed from the pleasure that he had wrung from them with fingers and tongue, they reached for him. One hand on his cheek, and the other below, brushing his hand away. They stroked him as they pulled his face down for another kiss.

As Beelzebub drew his tongue into their mouth, they pulled and guided his cock into them. He obeyed.

The feeling of sliding inside them was lush. Their heat surrounded him as he slipped deeper inside. He kissed them at the same time, delighting at being welcomed into their body at both mouths.

Gabriel wanted to be so deep inside them that the margins of him and Beelzebub became semantics to be argued. He wanted to become one flesh, to meld, to never leave the temple of them.

He felt his hips meet theirs. Beelzebub broke the kiss and slid their hand away from his Effort. They were smiling that fierce smile, the one that never quite reached their eyes. Wild and wicked and, above all things, hungry.

They looped their arms around his neck. “You’re going to fuck me,” they said.

Gabriel blinked. “Is that...your first swear?”

Beelzebub laughed, a joyous and rolling sound. When they laughed, the muscles of their Effort clenched around him, making thinking and breathing both very difficult.

“I believe this may be the first time that I’ve said that particular word,” they said. “You’re rather fond of it, aren’t you?”

“I like it more coming out of your mouth.”

They kissed him again, their passion rising hot as his. He began to draw back, and they broke the kiss.

“I wasn’t finished,” they said, grabbing his hips and pulling him back into them. They sighed as he slipped as deep as he could go. “As I was saying, you’re going to fuck me. Until I lose every word that I know, in every human language that I’ve learned, and the ancient Ethereal tongue. You are going to fuck me until the only word I have left is your name. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Gabriel replied, releasing the breath that he had been holding. “Yes, my Prince.”

“Once you have wrecked me as completely as I wreck you, you will see to this breast,” they said, holding up the breast that still leaked milk. “You will not leave me lopsided.”

“Yes, my Prince.”

They took his hand and laid it down over their mons. Beelzebub took his thumb and pressed it against their clit. They began to stroke themself using him.

“Don’t...ah...don’t neglect me here...” they said. “I’m already clozze...already, again...please, Gabriel...”

Gabriel braced himself against the headboard with his free hand, and drew himself out of Beelzebub as far as he dared.

They sighed. He lingered, moving as slowly as he could. And then, just as leisurely, he pushed back inside them. Gabriel rolled his thumb over their swollen, needy clit. Beelzebub cried out, an old Babylonian swear that Gabriel found absolutely charming. Their fingernails raked the flesh of his shoulders, and the sudden pain only drove his own pleasure higher.

Even though he tried to prolong it, Beelzebub was right about how close they were. It only took a few slow strokes before Gabriel felt their muscles seize around him.

They called for him as their pleasure took them. Gabriel continued, pressing as deep inside as he could and withdrawing. Like the street vendor that pulled taffy for them when Beelzebub brought him to Coney Island, long and slow strokes. Precise, careful, and thorough. Flesh over flesh, like waves on a beach. He could wear them down like this. His thumb still swirled around their clit, but with less pressure. Allowing them to catch their breath, and begin to climb again.

He was rising, too. Every measured stroke brought him closer to breaking. Yet, he lingered, nearly dawdling. He wanted to stay inside them for as long as he could.

Gabriel was content with whatever Beelzebub chose to give him, whatever he was allowed. He’d never pushed. But, if he was completely honest with himself, he’d wanted this since they’d started fucking. He’d wanted them to want him this way. He wanted to drive them as crazy as they drove him. To leave them dizzy and delirious. Sated and replete. As Beelzebub always left him.

He lost himself in them. In the way that they felt around him, so warm and wet and good. In the way that they felt beneath him, moving with him. In their buzzes and cries. To be inside them was sublime--not in the colloquial sense, but in the chemical sense. He felt as if his solid, corporeal self evaporated into his Prince’s panting breath as his climax drew near.

Gabriel loved the way that they looked, flushed and breathless, worrying a knuckle with their teeth as he stroked them. As he fucked them. He loved the beautiful way that they surrendered to him. Eyes closed in bliss and in trust. And yet, he couldn’t hold back forever. His need pushed him forward, demanded more stimulation. He drew back, and slammed into them.

Beelzebub spat their knuckle out of their mouth with a satisfying, “Oh!”

Gabriel smiled, and then did it again.

Their hands found his shoulders again, and their nails dug deep. He didn’t care. He drove into them. Measured thrusts. He could feel himself rising. Beelzebub’s wild screams of ancient swears only drove him higher.

He managed to hold back until after they peaked, but only barely. The sweet pain in the base of his spine flared, and he spilled inside them.

He lost his grip on the headboard, lowering his face to their shoulder, breathing in the scent of their skin, their sweat, and their musk beneath.

Beelzebub gasped for breath beneath him. After a moment, their breathing slowed and their wicked grin widened over their sharp little teeth.

“That was a good start,” they said.

“It was only a start,” Gabriel replied. “Are you going to heal me, or do I have to go on without miracles.”

“No miracles? That doesn’t seem sporting,” they said.

Gabriel felt them heal him. Felt his strength return and felt his cock, flaccid and spent, begin to rise inside the little Prince.

They were grinning their feral, fervent grin at him. Mouth open slightly, panting. Their skin golden in the lamplight and sheened with sweat. Gabriel leaned back, drawing himself out of them. A slender string of their mixed fluids still connected the two of them, shimmering as tenuously as a thread of spider silk.

Beelzebub watched with interest as he leaned over them. They were waiting for his next move, and they radiated nothing but focused curiosity. They were eager for him, and he was just as eager to please them. Gabriel wanted them the way that they’d had him--on all fours, spread before him, and crying from the sensation of being filled.

But their right breast, the neglected one, trickled milk. Gabriel realized that he wanted that first.

He took their hands and pulled them up to him, onto their knees. One arm around the small of their back, he found their lips with his, opening their mouth and slipping inside. Every part of them--saliva, blood, milk, and the juices that slicked his cock--every part of them was deliciously sweet. He teased them below with his fingers as he broke the kiss.

Slowly, he laid meandering kisses down. Jawbone, neck, the sweet flesh where the neck and shoulder came together. Collarbone and lower. He took their nipple in his mouth, and felt their milk rush into his mouth, to bathe his tongue in liquid gold.

“That’zz nice...” Beelzebub murmured as he reached down. As his fingers moved around the flesh of their Effort. “Yezz...oh...pleazze, Gabriel. More!”

They clung to his shoulders as he drank from them. As he fondled them. Slowly, they settled backwards; rump on feet, their knees spread wide for his fingers, and their back against the headboard. He followed them, suckling and stroking, enjoying the moans and buzzes that they made for him.

They cried out his name as their clit pulled back. He followed it with his fingers, forcing them over the brink again.

The milk flowed more quickly as they peaked. Gabriel drank everything that they gave him.

It reminded him of time they’d spent in the barely-furnished apartment in Venice. He’d been on his knees then, too. They didn’t have a bed, but they’d made great use of an antique ebony-wood prayer bench. He’d knelt before them, as Beelzebub perched on the table. Carved ivory angels inlaid in the wood bowed their heads in prayer, their gold-gilt halos nearly brushing Beelzebub’s fingers where they clutched the tabletop. It was meant to hold a Bible, but something far more sacred was open and waiting for Gabriel there. He remembered lowering his head between his Prince's legs, and learning how to pleasure their cock.

He’d swallowed them then, too. And it had been almost as sweet.

Gabriel sighed and released the nipple. “Every part of you is delicious,” he said. “How do you do that?”

They leaned up from the headboard, where they had draped themselves, weak and spent. “I’m...blezzed,” they replied with a shrug.

“You still know too many words,” he said.

They were on him quickly, shoving Gabriel down onto the mattress and landing on top of him. Their mouth met his with a kiss so crushing that it felt like Beelzebub was trying to climb inside of him through his mouth.

Gabriel was laughing when they broke the kiss, delighted at the demon’s sudden friskiness. They spread their legs over him, and he stopped laughing when they slipped him inside of them. He let out a soft, wondrous, “Oh!” as they slid down his cock. As their hips met, and Beelzebub braced themself against his thighs.

“If I still know too many words, Archangel,” they said, “then it’s your job to take them away from me.”

Gabriel laid a hand on their waist, to steady them. Beelzebub lifted themself up, an impish grin on their face. But that smile left them as they dropped onto him. They groaned, open-mouthed. They looked like that sculpture of Saint Theresa, their ecstasy tempered with pain, or perhaps the other way around. Beelzebub closed their eyes and rose up on him again. Gabriel watched them move on him, his pulse very loud in the velvet silence of the room as he waited for them to crash back into him.

The sudden knock at the door exploded like a burst of fire from a Gatling gun.

**Author's Note:**

> Discarded summaries of this chapter:
> 
> "How Beelzebub learned to stop worrying and love the D."
> 
> "Trust is hard, and so is Gabriel."
> 
> Anybody want to guess who's at the door?
> 
> Comments and kudos are really, sincerely appreciated. Especially for a smut chapter! I literally wrote this because people told me that they like my smut.
> 
> Concrit welcome.


End file.
